vegetables into the wok and a cloud of steam billowed around her. She used a wooden spatula to stir the frying chicken and vegetables.
‘Your prediction came true?’
‘That’s what he said. He never told me the details. Later that year we had floods and we lost our crops and our animals. All the money was spent. Then Mr Vander Mayer came back. He told my father he wanted to help. He had a deal. He’s always been good at doing deals. He’d pay for my education, he’d take care of me, and he’d give my father one hundred thousand baht a year. In return, I would live with him, like a daughter.’
Cramer’s jaw dropped in surprise. ‘He bought you?’
‘Not bought, no.’
‘He paid for you, Su-ming. That’s like slavery.’
She shook her head as she stirred the contents of the wok. ‘You don’t understand what it’s like in Thailand. You can’t even imagine how poor we were. I had brothers who needed an education, medicine, food even. My parents had given me everything and they were about to lose the farm. It was a small sacrifice, Mike Cramer. And look what he was offering me. A chance to travel, to see the world. To learn things I couldn’t even dream about. And in return, all I had to do was to help him. Help him run his business and tell him things, tell him what I sensed about people.’
‘And what about your family? Do you still see them?’
She took the wok off the stove and poured the steaming chicken and vegetables onto a plate. ‘Of course I do. I see them whenever I want to. They’re very rich now, the richest people in the village. One of my brothers is a doctor, the other is at university in Bangkok. Mr Vander Mayer has been very good to me, and to my family. Get the rice, please.’
Cramer drained the rice as Su-ming took small bowls and ivory chopsticks from a cupboard. She stopped as she saw Cramer looking at her. ‘Don’t,’ she said.
‘Don’t what?’
‘Don’t pity me, Mike Cramer. I chose the life I have. Nobody forced me.’
‘Are you happy?’
She shrugged as if her own happiness was a matter of absolutely no importance. ‘Eat,’ she said.
Lynch could see Marie’s hands tense on the steering wheel as the police car roared past, siren wailing and lights flashing. ‘Easy, Marie, love,’ he said. The police car flashed its headlights and a white Toyota pulled over to the roadside.
‘Sorry,’ said Marie. They were on the outskirts of West London and had made good time in the hired Rover. Marie had offered to drive once they’d reached Bristol and Lynch had readily agreed. Marie drove well, albeit a little aggressively. A couple of times he’d had to remind her to keep within the speed limit and she’d smiled shamefacedly and slowed down.
‘We’re going to need a street map,’ Lynch said.
‘I’ll stop at a newsagent’s. They’re bound to have an
‘I suppose so,’ replied Lynch. ‘I wish I knew more about him.’
‘It’s an unusual name.’ Her brow furrowed as if she was deep in thought.
Lynch patted her thigh. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll think of something. You’re right, we can start with his office.’
‘I’ve an idea. I’ve a friend who works for
‘Wouldn’t he want to know why?’
‘He’s never asked why before. I’ll tell him it’s for work. Researching a possible client.’
‘Are you sure he won’t be suspicious?’
‘Positive.’
Lynch thought about it as Marie drove. ‘This friend. Boyfriend, was he?’
‘With the accent on friend, Dermott. We went out a few times, I jumped his bones twice. Okay, three times maybe. Now he’s just a mate. It’s worth trying, they’ll have any story ever written about this Vander Mayer. They might even have his picture. Look, I tell you what, I’ll call him first, test the water. If he seems okay about it, we can drive to their offices in Wapping.’
Lynch looked at his wristwatch. He wanted to get to Vander Mayer’s office before rush hour, but they had plenty of time. ‘Okay, give it a go.’
Marie found a newsagent’s in Hammersmith. She left Lynch in the car and returned a few minutes later with an
Lynch watched as she went over to the phone. She played with her hair as she spoke to her friend and she winked at Lynch, letting him know it was okay. He caught sight of himself in the rear-view mirror and realised that he’d have to shower and shave before too long. A scruffy appearance always attracted attention, that was one of the things that had been drummed into him when he’d first enlisted as a volunteer. Marie looked good, considering they’d spent more than twenty-four hours on the road, but even she’d need to freshen up. Lynch decided that he might as well drive the rest of the way into the city so he moved across to sit in the driver’s seat. Marie came back to the car and got in the passenger side. ‘He said I can come around whenever I want. I’m to call him from the gate.’
‘Okay, let’s go,’ said Lynch. ‘We’ll get a ticket if we sit here any longer.’
Martin drew the Mercedes up in front of the office block. ‘Here we are,’ he said.
Cramer looked out of the side window. It was a nondescript building, grey stone with square metal-framed windows and double glass doors. A security camera was mounted above the door to provide video coverage of the entrance. A young man sat huddled in a duffel coat next to a black and white mongrel. On the ground in front of him was a piece of brown cardboard on which had been written ‘Please Help The Homeless’.
‘I see him,’ said Allan, as if reading Cramer’s mind. Martin was already out of the car and opening the passenger door. Allan moved quickly, striding around the back of the Mercedes and putting himself between Cramer and the beggar.
Cramer got out of the car. The suit and overcoat felt more confining than ever. The gun was snug in its holster and Cramer could feel it pressing against his flesh through the handmade shirt. He shrugged his shoulders against the restrictive clothes, tugged nervously at the sleeves of the overcoat, and then followed Martin towards the double doors. Allan looked from side to side but his eyes kept returning to the beggar.
A man in a dark suit carrying a furled umbrella walked quickly down the street towards them and Cramer tensed. The man was the right size, the right age, the right build, but then so was half the male population of London. The man walked by at speed. He had the bearing and stride of a military man and Cramer marked him down as a former soldier who’d taken a job in the City.
Martin opened the double doors and quickly checked the foyer before nodding to Cramer to let him know that it was secure. Allan kept himself between Cramer and the beggar as Cramer followed Martin inside. A uniformed concierge looked up from his newspaper. He frowned at the men but smiled benignly when he saw Su-ming.
They headed over to the lift. It arrived empty and Allan stepped in first, followed by Cramer and Su-ming. The lift doors closed and Cramer took several deep breaths. ‘You okay, Mike?’ Allan asked.
‘Yeah,’ said Cramer. ‘I just wish he’d get it over with.’
‘Take it easy, we don’t know how long it’s going to be. You’ll wear yourself out if you stay this tense.’
Cramer put his finger inside his shirt collar and tried to loosen it. He could feel rivulets of sweat trickle down his back though his mouth was still as dry as sandpaper. ‘I’ll be okay,’ he said.
‘Remember, you’ve got to be alert, but not tense. If you’re tense you’ll slow down.’
Cramer nodded. Su-ming was watching him anxiously and he smiled to reassure her, though he didn’t feel like smiling. He felt trapped within the made-to-measure clothes and he had a hollow feeling deep inside his stomach, a cold dread that, despite all the training, when he came face to face with the killer he wouldn’t be able to react in time.
The lift doors opened and Cramer followed Martin and Allan down a grey-carpeted corridor with Su-ming bringing up the rear. As they walked by an office door it opened and Cramer’s hand reacted instinctively, jerking
